


sobero

by crytalstellar



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, New Years, not entirely romantic but alas, there is a smooch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 02:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13226529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crytalstellar/pseuds/crytalstellar
Summary: of course saeran would get stuck babysitting a drunk at his brother's stupid new year's party





	sobero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Khismer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khismer/gifts), [ZenTheRainbowUnicorn (FlightlessPhoenix)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlightlessPhoenix/gifts).



> last year (2016) a couple friends and i did a fic trade thing and... ahahah... a year late. oops. i wanted to post it when it was in season but. oops. 
> 
> anyway, a sobero is someone who, according to urbandictionary, takes care of his drunk bros. not... entirely the term i wanted but close enough. this fic is... kinda ridiculous imo. 
> 
> anyway, please enjoy and have a happy new year!

It’s an hour until midnight when Saeran finally gives into his brother’s incessant nagging to come out of his room and celebrate New Years with everyone else. There’s no doubt that in his mind that his brother’s friends are buzzed, if not outright drunk, since they’ve been getting increasingly louder as the night’s gone on. Saeran doesn’t mind the drinking, but he could do without the excess ruckus.

It doesn’t take long for Saeran to grow bored of the festivities though and he almost tries to sneak back to his room. However, one threatening smile from his brother is enough to keep Saeran from leaving the party. Saeran contemplates just ignoring him and leaving anyway, but is stopped when someone grabs him by the wrist.

“Heeeey~ where’re ya goin’?”

Saeran turns to look at his captor. Despite not being a member of the RFA, Saeyoung had let his fiancee invite her friend for some reason or another. You stare at him, eyes wide and somewhat glazed over and there’s no doubt in Saeran’s mind that you’re already plastered. When he doesn’t answer you tug at his arm, repeating your question.

“Back to my room,” he answers shortly. He’s hoping that his curt tone will dissuade you from keeping him any longer, but it turns out to not work.

“But whyyyyy~?” you cry, tugging on his arm more. “The party’s here! Not in your room!”

Saeran grimaces, trying to think of an appropriate excuse, but before he can, you start to pull him further from the sanctity of his room and closer to the rest of the party. He tries to struggle a bit, but each time he does, you yank him that much harder. But instead of pulling him into the thick of things like he expects, you usher him to sit down on the living room couch before plopping down next to him.

“Let’s sit here, ‘kaaaaay?”

Saeran nods hesitantly. Of course, he’d rather be in his room, but when given the choice he’d rather be here sitting down than joining in on whatever the others seem to be doing. You flash him a goofy grin before leaning your head down on his shoulder.

The sudden contact causes Saeran to jump, but you seem to either not notice or think nothing of it. He looks around helplessly, unsure if he should push you off or let you be. From across the room, he manages to catch his brother’s eyes. Saeyoung stares for a moment before slowly putting a thumbs up as he grins encouragingly. Saeran’s automatic response is a disgusted look. No doubt that that stupid brother of his has the whole situation misconstrued. He probably thinks that this is the start of some kind of half baked romance, when it’s really a tale of babysitting.

Saeyoung, of course, totally and utterly ignores the look on Saeran’s face and just mouths, ‘Good job!’

Saeran’s response is a pointed glare at his brother. Can’t that idiot tell that he’s chaperoning, not seducing you? Guess he’ll have to explain before his dumb ideas get any worse than they already are. Saeran whips out his phone to send him a quick text, ‘they’re drunk, dumbass.’

He continues to glare at Saeyoung until he checks his phone. His mouth forms an o before he types out a response, ‘ohhhh. take cake care of them, okay?’

Saeran groans. He did not sign up for this.

But then again, dealing with one drunkard is better than dealing with six.

At least that’s what he thinks until you wrap your arms around his body, snuggling closer to him. He jolts a bit, but manages to maintain his composure. You nuzzle your face into his arm, “You… smell really really nice…”

As soon as your words pass through his ears, Saeran feels his heart stop for just a moment before it starts thumping wildly in his chest for some unknown reason. He’s not really used to compliments, especially from anyone who isn’t Saeyoung. That’s got to be the reason, right? What does ‘nice’ smell like anyway? As far as he knows, there’s nothing really special about the body wash he uses.

You continue to mumble, albeit incoherently. Did you maybe fall asleep? He’s heard that some people get sleepy after they drink so maybe that’s what’s going on? If he had to choose between a loud drunk and a quiet one Saeran would definitely choose the latter. Unfortunately, since you’re using him as a pillow, he can’t leave. But it also means that he can’t be dragged away by the rest of the group.

After a couple minutes, you begin to stir. However, instead of letting go of Saeran you push against him more.

“H-hey, what are you-”

“ ‘m thirsty…” you say slowly, reaching over Saeran to grab at one of the cups on the coffee room table. Somehow, Saeran isn’t sure that the drink you’re trying to reach for is even yours. Hell, you might not even care in your drunken state. Instead of gripping the side of the cup like most people would, your fingers graze the rim before they hook around it. You pull, tilting the cup over slightly. Saeran moves to grab it, before you tilt it over, but you seem to realize your mistake and grab it correctly. You lean in closer to Saeran as you try to bring it closer to take a sip. The keyword here is try. You miss and whatever mystery liquid is in the cup spills onto Saeran.

“Hey!” he protests loudly, hoping you’ll realize and get off of him.

However, it doesn’t work.

His sudden outburst seems to have surprised you, causing you to drop the cup and it’s remaining contents onto his lap. Saeran curses loudly, and turns to glare at you, ready to give you an earful. However, his words get caught in his throat as you stare at him with teary eyes.

“I…I’m sorry….” you cry, bowing your head.

“Urgh… ah…” Saeran’s jaw tightens as he struggles to keep himself from chewing you out. Luckily, the sad puppy dog eye look you’re giving him helps mollify him a tiny bit. “Just… just be more careful next time!”

You nod. Then, after a moment, you stand up suddenly, teetering a little bit as you go. Saeran looks up at you, confused at whatever you’re about to do. Then you grab him by the hand and yank him toward the hallway.

“We gotta get you outta those clothes,” you tell him in a very serious voice.

“Uh…” While it’s true his clothes are wet from whatever was in that cup it’s not so bad that he needs to change. “It’s… fine…”

“No!” you exclaim loudly. “Ish not fine!”

Saeran sighs, unsure of what to do next. Should he bring you back to the others and let them handle you? But part of him isn’t even sure that you’ll cooperate- you seem to be pretty stubborn.

Your head swings back and forth as you look around the hallway, “Where’s yer room?”

Saeran hesitates to answer. He really doesn’t think he needs to get changed, but maybe if he does you’ll behave. Unfortunately, you’re not patient enough for him to point it out and start trying each door you come to. Saeyoung keeps a lot of the doors (even some to the closets) locked so none of them open. Saeran’s fairly sure that the first door that opens will be dubbed his room.

“It’s over here,” he finally says quietly, maneuvering around your body to guide you to the room.

“Ah! Tanks!” you say as he opens the door so you can enter. You look around the room for a second before turning back to Saeran. “Okay, now you gotta change.”

Saeran takes a step back when you move toward him, “I-I don’t need your help changing my clothes.”

You squint at him, “But I got you wet.”

“I can change myself,” Saeran asserts. You frown and he realizes that it’s probably useless trying to reason with a drunk person. He circles around you making sure to keep his distance as he moves toward the dresser on the other end of the room.

Then you leap toward him, much faster than any drunken person should ever be. Saeran realizes that you’re much stronger than you look, as you manage to pin him to the wall and wrestle his sweater off of him. You start to go for the shirt he had on underneath, but Saeran manages to stop you, grabbing you by the wrists.

“It’s not wet,” he says in a firm tone, as if he’s reprimanding a child.

You blink and stare down at him silently. Saeran starts to squirm, feeling a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny. Finally, you say, as if you’re making some kind of revelation, “It’s… not.”

Saeran sighs with relief, glad that  _something_  made it through that thick, intoxicated brain of yours. Slowly, he loosens his grip on your wrists. When you don’t reach out to resume your attempts at stripping him, he releases you entirely.

Once you’re free, he expects you to maybe back away or something. But you don’t.

You reach down and start tugging the hem of your own shirt upwards.

Saeran sputters a bit, his face reddening at the sight of your exposed skin. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Gotta git rid of da wet clothes!” you respond a little too cheerily. Did you forget who actually got their clothes wet? _Did you already forget that you had taken that person’s wet clothes off?_

Saeran rushes over to stop you from stripping completely, but isn’t in time to stop you from pulling off your shirt. You start to tug at the button of your pants, but he grabs your hands once more, effectively stopping you, “Stop.”

You freeze, and slowly look up at him.

“…they aren’t wet,” Saeran repeats. He’s not sure if it’ll work again, but it’s worth a shot.

“They’re… not?”

“No.”

You look back down at yourself and squeak, “Oh…”

Saeran, once again, slowly lets go of your hands, and backs away from you. He notices your discarded shirt at his feet and reaches down to grab it. Making sure to see as little of your half naked form as possible, he looks away as he thrusts the shirt in your general direction. A second later, he feels the shirt being pulled from his grasp. He gives you a little bit of time so you can put it on. You may be drunk, but the rustling of clothes he hears must be a good sign that you’re coherent enough to dress yourself.

When he finally turns to face you he expects to see you dressed in some form.

But Saeran’s not surprised when to find the shirt bunched up around your neck like some kind of scarf. He keeps his eyes trained to the areas above your shoulders, but the knowledge that you’re still pretty exposed beneath them keeps his face nice and warm.

You blink at him. Once. Twice. Then, you ask, in a cute sounding voice, “H-help…”

Saeran stares at you and sighs. As much as this situation annoys him he can’t bring himself to tell you no. So, he slowly reaches over and carefully realigns your shirt so that it’s facing the right way. Then he gingerly reaches over to find the sleeves so that you can slip your arms through them one at a time. At that point he pulls away, figuring that you can take it from there.

You pull down the hem and give him a child like smile, “Thank you!”

Saeran’s face which had finally cooled down, flushes pink again. He turns away from you and covers his face, mumbling a ‘no problem’ between his fingers. The two of you stand there for a moment, neither sure what to do next when you both hear a loud hollering coming from the direction of the living room. Saeran looks toward the digital clock on his bedside table to find that it reads that it is exactly twelve am.

“It’s… midnight,” you say, unknowingly echoing Saeran’s thoughts. Then, after a beat you begin to tug on his shirt. “Hey!”

He ignores you at first then you start tugging harder. Finally he turns his head back to you and asks, in an annoyed tone, “What?”

You stand on your tippy toes and plop a kiss right on his lips. It’s so soft that Saeran can barely feel it, but he feels his heart stop in his chest all the same. You pull away and shoot him an innocent smile, as if you don’t realize what you just did, “Happy new year!”

Saeran merely gapes at you, face as red as can be as he tries to figure out what would make you kiss him. He opens his mouth to ask when you start to tilt forward, falling onto his chest. Saeran jolts a bit at the unexpected contact. What in the world are you doing now?

He reaches to grab you by the shoulders, ready to demand answers only to find that you’ve passed out. He tries to shake you a little bit to see if you’ll wake up but no dice. 

He’ll just have to wait and ask when you wake up.

If you even remember, that is.


End file.
